This One, Too

He's like his Mama in so many ways, but I think he's smarter. He knows things that I can't explain. Gets to the punchline five seconds before me. Too often, our minds run together, laughing at inappropriate times and thinking impertinent thoughts.

But he's smarter. He's smarter because he knows it's okay to be angry. He knows it's okay to express himself - out loud and forcefully, and I never knew that. He knows that love isn't contingent on like. He knows that sometimes I don't like how he's acting, but I always love the heart that is beating inside his chest. He knows that being the younger doesn't mean taking any crap from the older. He knows that crying is a perfectly acceptable response to crushing disappointment and frustration.

And I never knew that. Not when I was 12. Not when I was 21. 

Sometimes, not even now.

But he's teaching me. He's teaching me that emotions are big and loud and sometimes ugly, but they are ours and we own them. He's teaching me that injustice shouldn't go unnoticed - that sometimes we have to stand up and say to the world how wrong it is. He's teaching me that it is okay to feel sad, as long as you can still feel hope at the same time, and that sometimes you just need a good cry to make the world all right again.

And he's teaching me to laugh. To laugh like a child again, without worry that someone will think less of me. To laugh at the silliest things, like 12 year old boys do. To laugh at things that really aren't even funny except that somehow they are.

I love that. I love that. I love that.